The maple tree is turning red,
A robin sings his farewell song
Migrating geese fly overhead,
It won't be long, it won't be long.

A farmer plows his lifeless stalks,
His cattle wander toward the barn;
Their streaming nostrils seem to talk
Of winter settling on the farm.

In town, a girl with lunch in hand
Is off to school this autumn day
While in the window Mother stands
Surprised at how time slips away.

All things have their time and place;
No haste with God, yet no delay.
The seasons move with ease and grace,
Remain awhile, then pass away.

Like many chapters on a book,
Our lives unfold from stage to stage.
We must not be afraid to look
Nor hesitate to turn the page.